


Tempus Villam

by feusgan



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: (I do know. She's a crimester.), Otasune, and Happy Hal, and a crimester cow possibly, featuring Deadpan Dave, snotacon - Freeform, we just don't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:10:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9494963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feusgan/pseuds/feusgan
Summary: haven't played any of the solid snake games yet and boy howdy does this fic ever show it.Very loosely-based on an existing X-Files AU. Dave and Hal commit petty crimes on a farm in the name of science.





	

David sighed a waft of smoke toward the stars. Hal had dragged him out to trespass in some pasture in some fuckoff nowhere town, in search of “evidence” for his latest alien “case”. Dave was content to stand by a patch of oxalis and watch Hal in the near distance, scampering around the moonlit field, practically running himself in circles. He’d tried to tell Dave off for smoking, citing that “They’ll see the light!”, whoever _they_ were, which had put Dave off for all of ten seconds before he relit the dart and settled in for the long haul once he realized Hal was completely serious about whatever this “mission” was. Dave bristled when the sound of chewing started up on his left flank.

“Moo.”

Oh. A lone cow was wandering the field, completely nonplussed about having escaped from the herd, or broken out of the barn, or whatever the case may be. Criminal bovines. Great. she was Holstein-Somethingian, if his farm facts were right. Typical that the most common-looking cow would use her appearance as a cover for her crimester tendencies.

“Do you see this shit?” he asked her, jerking his thumb in Hal’s direction. She continued to chew cud in what Dave decided was an agreeing way.

“ _AHA_!” Hal cried suddenly from all-fours in the grass before starting to dig frantically into the soil with his hands.

“Good job, buddy,” Snake called to him around the dwindling cigarette in his mouth. “Iunno what that was about. I don’t even know why we’re here. I wasn’t listening,” he informed the cow. She said nothing. The silent type, Dave observed. He caught himself before tossing the dart butt on the ground, realizing it would be a bad move to disrespect his new friend’s land. She could be the oyabun (oyabovine?) of the pasture, for all he knew. He ashed it on his boot and pocketed it, much to Future Dave’s regret.

“Want one?” he offered a cig to the cow as he pulled a fresh one out for himself. She chuffed. “Not into chainsmoking, huh?”

Dave and the cow continued to watch Hal until he suddenly came barrelling toward the two, eyes wide in the chase for “knowledge”.

“SNAKE!” he half-yelled, clapping both hands on Dave’s shoulders, “I need your expertise.”

“Oh hell.”

“See that old barn over there?” There was a vaguely barn-shaped thing on the horizon, yes.

“Sure.”

“D’you think you can sneak into it? There may be some critical intel on the second level.”

_“Critical intel” my ass-_

“Eh, I guess so.”

“You’re a saint, let’s go!” Hal took off at a full sprint before even finishing his sentence. Rather than contemplate the various ways in which Hal couldn’t be more wrong, Dave jogged lightly behind, the cow following at her own pace. He swore he heard Hal cackling gleefully the entire way to the barn.

 

“It’s locked.” Dave had done a full assessment of the building, and unusually, the front doors seemed like the way to go.

“Since when has that ever been a problem for you?”

“You really gotta learn lock-picking, Hal,” Dave chided him as he got to work on the door.

“But then I wouldn’t have an excuse to bring you along!”

Dave grumbled something about that being gay right before the lock disengaged. He yanked one of the doors open and Hal charged into the building at lighting speed.

“Coming, Snake?”

“I can’t go in with you, there’s a lady here.”

“It’s a cow, Snake.”

“It would be rude to leave her alone. Take my flashlight, you can dual-wield them, or something.”

The barn was laid out in a very fortunate manner that let Dave and Clarissa- as he’d dubbed the cow- to watch Hal fuck around on the the upper story once Dave had thought to recon it for any Hal-sized holes and hazards. Two cigarettes later he was absent-mindedly tying his bandana around Clarissa’s head for shits and gigs when Hal emerged, empty-handed but looking victorious.

“ _It was there_! I mean I can’t really take it with us since it probably belongs to the farmer, but I got all the proof I needed.”

“Good job, Hally,” Dave clapped him on the shoulder, the impromptu girly time with his new bovine buddy having lifted his spirits considerably.

“It’s a good look for you,” Hal told the cow as he walked past. She chuffed. “Let’s get out of here, Snake. Thanks for putting up with me.”

“It’s a _great_ look,” Dave whispered to the cow, tying the cloth back around his own head before following Hal back to the road on the edge of the field they’d snuck through. Right before leaving, Dave took some tape and a fresh cigarette out of his kit, and literally left Clarissa with a cancer stick inside her cowbell as a parting gift. She mooed in thanks- or rather, in response to the prodding, but Dave can think what he wants. The three of them crossed the pasture under the light of the moon and stars, another successful mission completed. Clarissa stood watch as they snuck back over the fence, booking it for their Adventure Van as soon as they were over.

 

Hal turned to Dave very suddenly about ten miles down the road.

“… Did we close the barn door?”

“Oh _fuck_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Oxalis? Because livestock? eheheheh
> 
> secondary anecdote time: Mom's husband's grandfather had brown cows but his farm bordered a forest, and deer are also brown, and he kept losing cows to bovine homicide. So one day he spray-painted "C-O-W" on the sides of his livestock, and never lost another cow again.


End file.
